


Escapade

by EuphoriaWriter



Category: Dangan Ronpa, Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, Super Dangan Ronpa 2
Genre: AU, Abuse, Alternate Universe - Non-Despair, Betrayal, Child Abuse, Childhood Memories, Depression, Eating Disorder Not Otherwise Specified, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Gangs, Gun Violence, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Kidnapping, Killing, Kuzupeko - Freeform, Love, Loyalty, Masturbation, Memories, Murder, Not Beta Read, Personality Disorder, Physical Abuse, Psychological Trauma, Romantic Fluff, Sexual Content, Sexual Harassment, Torture, Underage - Freeform, Underage Masturbation, Violence, Yakuza, implied eating disorder, it gets deep, may or may not be smut, relationships
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-19
Updated: 2016-09-20
Packaged: 2018-08-15 23:23:14
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply, Underage
Chapters: 2
Words: 18,172
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8077036
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EuphoriaWriter/pseuds/EuphoriaWriter
Summary: Fuyuhiko was in love with the girl that has sworn her entire existence to keeping him safe his entire life and Peko was undeniably in love with Fuyuhiko, the one person that has ever shown her concern  and has a heart despite being a yakuza heir. Things get messed up with a suspicious new group that infiltrates the Kuzuryuu clan and Peko is kidnapped. Rating may or may not be changed to explicit depending on where the story goes, also this is not beta'd.





	1. Part 1

* * *

 

He was used to seeing her kill a lot of people. That would sound horrible if Fuyuhiko was not apart of the yakuza. Still, not many normal people would start off by talking about the person they love killing other people, but neither she or he were considered normal. They were anything but that, Peko was probably the least human of the two, Fuyuhiko hated to admit it, but it was obvious. Years of being drilled to act and not think like a person will do that, especially because she’s been doing this ever since she was born. A sword sworn to be cut and to cut, all within the orders of him and his close family members. Nevertheless, some may say he’s just as fucked up as her, being the prime culprit that loves her.

No one loved or cared about her as much as he did, Fuyuhiko would be damned if anyone else did, he grew up with her ever since he was born. Bonds like those seem almost dangerous, but they were there and neither one of them could remove it. Fuyuhiko would do deep thinking about if he really did love her, or if he did by association of her being by his side 24/7. Then again most people born with a mole on their hand can sometimes end up hating said mole and getting it removed permanently through cosmetic surgery. So his mind would go to thinking about removing Peko from his life permanently. As much as he would not admit it, Fuyuhiko would end up breaking down into nothing but a puddle of tears and gross sounds imagining it too much. If she ever left him he would not know what he would do with himself. That being said, Fuyuhiko has come to terms with being accepting if she decides to leave him. He always promised her she had that choice when he becomes the boss and he would be damned if he didn’t keep that promise to her.

Watching her fight for him was one of the most conflicting sights for him. They were at the southern pier with duffle bags full of cash, cold and hard, just like Peko. The difference there was that she was priceless and he would never exchange her for anything else. Peko was beautiful, it was not in the way she looked aesthetically, to him it was her grace and character. Which that being said, was prominent when she beat up a bunch of seedy men for an even seedier deal. The duffle bags they had brought were empty, only to be filled with the goods they promised to trade them. The Yamaguchi clan were still a small millennial gang, with no deep history or any of the usual traits yakuza clans come from. Fuyuhiko was not one hundred percent sure how they even grew enough to try selling cocaine to the Kuzuryuu clan, but that was their first mistake. One thing that the Kuzuryuu clan was excellent at was absorbing weaker clans and using them to their advantage.

Like he had said though, it was conflicting to watch Peko fight, she was beautiful, lethe and graceful, but extremely deadly and always at risk when she does these things. If Fuyuhiko had it his way, he would dismiss her duties and get ten bodyguards, even if they were not as strong as Peko. As long as she was safe he didn't care, hence why he insists on coming with her on her solo missions. He hated doing it, because she was constantly worried about his safety if he was not at the house and even more so when it’s situations like these.

Peko’s black skirt floated down from her movements, finally finished with cutting down the small group, from where he watched her he could make out a hint of blood on her cheek that streaked through her silver hair. Her hands had a fair amount on them too, she paid them no mind as she sheathed her sword and disposed of the bodies. Waiting silently she gave him the signal, letting him finally join her as she threw the last body off of the pier.

“Got the bag?” he asked her, the sound of his shoes on the wood making a soft sound. Peko looked to him and nodded, grabbing the giant duffle bag with one hand, slinging the strap across her, on the opposite diagonal direction of her sword’s positioning on her back.

“Great, let's go drop this off to the lackies at nine, here,” he took out his handkerchief and handed it to her, “you got blood on you.”

* * *

 

Fuyuhiko waited in the car as Peko dropped off the dufflebag at one of their warehouses a few blocks away. It was a safety precaution, but it was reasonable in case of anyone trailing them. Especially if it was another clan, the cops were no big deal, but another clan would kill his men, take info and the product. Cops were easier to deal with and don't usually sell out the drugs they bust, not many do anyways, dirty cops get killed easily for having a chaotic agenda and jacking up prices constantly, so most cops know not to deal illegal substances to yakuza.

Once Peko was back in the car, Fuyuhiko relaxed reflexively, feeling more at ease now that she was back and safe.

“Hey how was it?” he asked her as she strapped her buckle in and eased the car out of the parking lot. There was still some smears of blood on her from where she had cleaned up, it was only noticeable if one paid close attention to her face, which not many would due to her intense eyes. In Fuyuhiko’s perspective her eyes were amazing and full of the emotions she never showed, so he was never intimidated by them. It was a big part of her that people never acknowledged, then again people were pussies and if no one would appreciate that part of her then they can fuck off.

“It was fine,” she replied with a gentle tone to her voice, “Kanji told me that Teruteru wanted me to try a new cream dish of his…” The two shuddered in unison at the mention of both the agitating perverse man and the implied innuendo that was obviously there.

“Honestly I thought he would of stopped bothering you about him ever since you beat that bastard to a pulp with your sheath,” Fuyuhiko sighed, looking out the window. The sky was a dull dark blue now, sun gone, but light still desperately grasping to the fabric of the sky as the night drowned everything. Street lights mixed with the towering buildings lit like jack o’lanterns were one of Fuyuhiko’s favorite sights to see, it was even better when Peko was there. Whether or not he thinks that his feelings are implanted things from being around her, there was no denying how he felt around her. Peko was like a lighthouse, tall, beaming and showing reassurance out to him, no matter how far he was from her.

“I think they both like it, so I’m trying a new method of ignoring those two,” as she spoke the car stopped at a red light on an intersection. Peko flipped on the turn signal, checking both ways before stealing a turn to the right lane. Diamond Avenue was down where Fuyuhiko was managing some gambling houses for the clan, of course as tradition he started them at a young age, when things were simpler and people were more scared of Peko more than a kid raised to be a yakuza boss. Then again, Peko’s killing record started when she was eight and Fuyuhiko has only started stabbing, maiming and mutilating when he was eleven. His sister Natsumi started when she was nine in a half and has always teased him about being a late bloomer ever since. Suede was a classic styled bar and dinner that was under Fuyuhiko’s gambling unit on Diamond Avenue. Fuyuhiko always loved the place due to enjoying the more vintage and classic things in life and with the establishment focusing on that type of look.

“Heh, good idea, they're not worth your time anyways,” he said while unbuckling his seatbelt after Peko parked a few feet away from Suede. Climbing out of the car, the two moved to the bar, entering into the clean atmosphere. Fuyuhiko was greeted by the employees as he and Peko made their way towards the back. The bar was packed with nicely dressed businessmen and Kuzuryuu members alike, the atmosphere was playful and relaxing as they slid by. Into the backroom they descended down a flight of stairs to the gambling part of things. The room was guarded by his men who parted for him and Peko naturally. Inside the room were tables set up with more businessmen, making bets, setting out chips and yen, risking currency for a chance for more.

“Is my room setup?” Fuyuhiko asked one of his men guarding a big black door kept away from the main entertainment in the room. The man nodded with a “yes boss” to him, Fuyuhiko smiled and asked the man how is kids were doing in school, making small talk before they went into the room. Inside the room was a nice suede circular booth set up around a tall table for a game of mahjong. There was a mini fridge inside as well as cleaned out ashtrays and a liquor cabinet next to some art displays that Peko had picked out. On days like these Fuyuhiko would have a table set up for him to have delegates, company owners and other people he had connections with to socialize around and play a few games with. As a yakuza leader his main objectives revolved around keeping a tight hold onto things like connections and keeping good graces with people he did business with.

Peko moved to stand in the corner, Fuyuhiko fussed at her, “come sit with me this time, give your feet a rest for a while.” She looked like she wanted to protest, but when her eyes met his they held a quick sparked conversation there. Pushing up her glasses to the bridge of her nose, Peko smoothed the back of her skirt before sliding in next to him, arms brushed up against one another.

“Do you think they will mind me sitting her?” she asked with a slightly concerned look in her eyes. Fuyuhiko waved it off and gave her a reassuring smile.

“They better damn well be, considering there's plenty of space for one and for two this being at my place.” Peko nodded, understanding what he said as she folded her hands into her lap, looking at the door before the first delegate entered.

 

* * *

 

“Don't you ever want to do anything besides being a hitman?” Fuyuhiko asked her out of curiosity, breathing in the crisp night air. The sky was darkened and the street lights were the only source of lighting outside as they walked along the cracked pavement. It was about midnight, and Fuyuhiko had finished his game of mahjong about two hours ago. That being said, he could not sleep and when he can’t sleep Peko couldn’t either. It was an odd connection they had with one another, not Peko refusing to sleep because he couldn’t, that would be silly.

“My existence is to only be your tool young master, having any wants or needs are not as important,” she replied. Fuyuhiko could barely hear her footsteps as she walked five feet behind him, it was how she would always walk with him when they walked together. She would always distance herself, but always close enough incase something happened.

“Cut that shit out, I know you have things you want, I can see it when you look at those animals at the pet shops,” he accused her, looking back to flash her a small smile. Peko had a slight blush on her face from what he said, looking a bit troubled.

“Of course you know that, we’ve been together for sixteen years since you were born after all,” she said in defeat, looking like she still wanted to refuse his words still.

“Damn right I do, you also know you can tell me anything right? I won't get mad  idiot,” after he said that silence permeated the air. A breeze blew by, bringing the smells of the cold night along with a slight smell of cigarettes and perfume as they passed by a host bar closing down for the night.

“I… I’m afraid I can’t say it, I’m sorry young master,” Peko said with strain in her voice. Fuyuhiko stopped, turning around to face her with a questioning look. Her facial expression went blank in a split second, but he saw it in her eyes. Peko was scared.

Fuyuhiko scoffed, “whatever, you don’t have to tell me, I was just trying to start conversation.”

“Of course young master.”

They continued to walk like this, wandering around the streets, watching them empty or refill by those out drinking. It was a nice friday night after all, most of the night creatures would still be out for a long time. Fuyuhiko ended up wandering into a nice and quiet neighborhood, homes looking asleep as most of its residency.

“I think I would become a scrub business man,” Fuyuhiko finally spoke again, thinking about what he would do if he was not a yakuza. “I would have an apartment in the city, have a family and go out drinking every night with my buddies, have two kids and a amazing wife who puts up with my ass.”

Fuyuhiko could hear Peko chuckle behind him, “is that so?” He found himself nodding in response, thinking about it more now. Coming home everyday in a cheap suit, kissing his wife and kids, helping with domestic chores before leaving to go to the bars. Go back home mildly drunk with his wife scolding him for coming home late, but still loved him and would make sure he drove the kids to school in the morning so she can go do whatever she wanted. He’d worship a woman like that. Fuyuhiko made his fantasy come to a dead halt when he started associating the wife as Peko. Don’t have weird fantasies about the person you’re five feet from.

“That sounds like a nice future,” Peko spoke softly, her voice sounded light and still the same tone, but it was gentle.

“Yeah it does, but I got bigger things to handle in the now.”

 

* * *

 

It was high noon on a sweltering Sunday, everything felt sticky and Fuyuhiko just wished the day would end now. He had meetings set up along with a few overlapping plans that had him not being able to make sure Peko was safe on her own missions. On days like these he was on edge, his family was always safe, he knew that very well, but when it comes to Peko he was never so sure. Especially with how her tone can be as well as how persistent she can be on using herself as an actual shield. Fuyuhiko remembered when she was eight and protected him pysically for the first time. They were just kids walking home from school when a man tried to grab Fuyuhiko. You would imagine how helpless he felt being easily subdued, but Peko had thrown herself into the fray like she’s always done. The only difference was after she thought they were safe, the man stood again and came at Fuyuhiko with a knife.

By the time help came Peko had a stab wound in her side and had slit the man with his own knife. Seeing the person you care about injured like that and then having it repeat over and over again does something to a person. As much as he wanted to deny that, he knew it was true, but it still did not help with the uneasy sick feeling he gets from it. Meanwhile Peko never seemed bothered by it, he even remembered when she smiled at him while bleeding out in his arms, saying she was happy to of kept him safe. Fuyuhiko did not want to think about what she would've done if he was not safe. He would never admit he was weak, but he has thought about if he was to die.. Most of it was to analyze what he think she would do. Fuyuhiko knew the answer, she would follow, kill and be killed for him and with him. It sickened him.

Because of this though, Fuyuhiko always held a seed of hatred for his father, the man that had insisted this life onto Peko, the same person that Peko was ordered to obey the most if it wasn’t from Fuyuhiko. And Fuyuhiko would never give Peko orders unless it was to keep her safe. It was messed up and twisted. He considered killing his father for it, but never went through the actions of doing so, it wouldn’t make him any better and it would not make Peko happy. Fuyuhiko despised violence and murder, so did Peko too, all of which was such a sweet irony of their positions.

He could not stop his knees from bouncing in his seat inside the car, waiting anxiously for her to meet him. The airconditioner was adjusted to a comfortable chill to try and combat the outside weather from sucking more heat into the black vehicle. As soon as he dared to turn off the car it would be a heat zone. Finally he saw her about a block away, she stuck out in the best way with her silver hair and red eyes, but besides that she looked like a normal young woman. She was poised and moving fluidly when she spotted the car, slipping into the passanger side by him. As she buckled he gave her a moment, turning down the music he forgot that was playing.

“How did it go?” he asked, staring out the window, trying to seem like he didn’t care that much. Obviously though she could read him very well still, this was apparent as she looked at him with a reassuring look that he couldn't help but glance at.

“It went good, no issues at all… do you have any kind of container though?” she asked politely with a slight awkward look on her face. Fuyuhiko raised an eyebrow before remembering. Fingers.

“Uh yeah, glove box...where are they?” he scanned over her with questioning eyes. Peko was wearing a button down and a pair of slacks, none of which looked stained or bloodied this time. As she popped open the glove box she glanced at him with an odd look in her eyes, as if she did not want to tell him where she kept the fingers she cut off. He held a look with her for about a minute as she grabbed a ziplock bag, before she reached up into the bun in her hair in defeat. From the tight bun she had nicely smoothed and rolled this morning came four severed fingers, Peko wasn’t disgusted, Fuyuhiko was a bit surprised.

“...I should of brought something to hold them in I know,” she sighed, as if this was an everyday issue for her as she placed the fingers into the bag. After storing them away she slid the baggie of fingers into her sword bag.

“Well anyways, we have to go meet up with the Kazahana’s for that deal, do you want to stop so you can wash up or anything?” he asked as he pulled out from the curb, merging back onto the road with the traffic.

Peko shook her head, “no need, if I keep my hair up like this then there should be no problem,” she replied. “There is no blood in it, correct?” she asked, turning the back of her head to him.

Hazardously, while keeping his hands on the wheel while driving, Fuyuhiko looked into her hair bun, “you’re good, fingers don't hold that much blood after they’re severed anyways. Peko nodded, turning back around to look out at the traffic. The traffic got better once they were on the highway, with the speeds changing from local to madness in a split second from one turn off to the next. The Kazahana’s were one of the few other yakuza clans the Kuzuryuu’s dealt with, most would say they were a sister clan to the Kuzuryuus. The Kuzuryuu clan was the head of the other clans that they controlled from other parts of Japan as well as a few off shore places. They usually still associated under the Kuzuryuu clan, but for organized purposes, they would be referred to by the person in charge of each branch. That being said, Kazahana is making a good name for herself as a cutthroat business woman and “trader” of sorts. Her history has shown how useful she’s been for the Kuzuryuu’s always on time with deliveries and good at executing out orders given to her sector.

The drive out to the meeting point was half an hour long, to fill in the gaps for the most part Fuyuhiko and Peko listened to the radio and held casual conversation. For the most part it was nice, other times it was a tad awkward with how quiet Peko could get in between conversations. She would stare out the window with her sunset red eyes focused on what they found interest in, right now she was watching the ocean as they drove closer to their destination. Around eight o’five pm they arrived a block away from the northern docks that the Kazahana’s mediated for the Kuzuryuu’s. A few of his clan members greeted him when he got out of the car, not bothering to lock it, no dumbass would live if they touched his car in an area his clan controlled heavily.

Fuyuhiko made greetings with his men as he waited for Peko to get out of the car. After she slid out they began walking up to the warehouse, the establishment the Kazahana’s had under their control. It was a shipping warehouse from a company the Kuzuryuu’s embezzled from and then passed on said embezzling to the Kazahana’s group. With the shipping warehouse sending goods to some of the offshore clans of the Kuzuryuu clan was more efficient with the kind of business they uphold. For example, that dufflebag full of cocaine that Peko had retrieved was most likely being sold off from the shores of California all the way to China. Things go quickly when dealing with organized criminal groups, more quickly than one would think. The fast pace of it pleased Fuyuhiko a lot, hence why he did not mind the family business too much.

Once they arrived in the warehouse one of his men lead Fuyuhiko and Peko up to their meeting room. It was up on the second floor of the warehouse where more privacy was kept under lock. Inside the room was Kazahana and a few of her own personal men she kept near her as bodyguards of sorts. Fuyuhiko took a seat on one of the couches across from the older woman as Peko stood behind the couch respectfully, keeping watch over him.

“Kazahana, I can see that everything is going well, what kind of deal was it that you wanted to discuss?” Fuyuhiko asked, propping his elbows on his knees as his fingers twined together, keeping a leaned in posture.

“Well I would love to, but I may need to ask your bodyguard to step outside for a moment, my own will do so as well, I would like to keep this conversation to be dealt silently,” Kazahana said, flicking a strand of her long hair behind her shoulder. Kazahana was well aged for a woman of her stature, resting at a comfortable height of 5’7 and more than capable then one would think. They way she spoke though concerned Fuyuhiko, her tone was off and her eyes seemed very intense. The men that she had with her left at the flick of her fingers to the door. Fuyuhiko glanced at Peko, who held an uneasy look in her eyes before following suit, with one hand gripping the fabric of her sword sheathe out of habit. Once the bodyguards and Peko left the room and the door closed with a satisfying click did Kazahana show some sign of relief with her shoulders relaxing down.

“I hate to admit this to you Fuyuhiko, but the deal I wanted to talk to you about was a lie,” Kazahana said in a quiet voice, looking at him with regret. He looked at her, a bit shocked at her actions, he tilted his head. What would make Kazahana lie to him? Was she going to betray him? Fuyuhiko became aware of the handgun he had concealed under his blazer in a side holster, ready to do what he had to.

“I have heavy suspicion that the clan is being infiltrated by… well by a new conflicting party,” she whispered, taking out a file from under her chair and handing it to him. Glancing at her once, he opened the file, going through it’s contents. Inside were images of clan members crudely strung up and killed with pink paint splayed over the dead bodies and scene. Fuyuhiko was always able to tell who was from what clan, call it intuition or him having a good mark at observing people. He was reassured by this from a photo of one of the dead bodies having a dragon tattoo exposed along with the face he recognized as one of the newer members. He put familiarity off and only accessed the logical and memorizing part of his head, there was no denying that he knew this person was from his clan.

“I don’t have much information on it besides the pink paint and such, but last week information spilled and we got hit by one of the rival clans, even though the information was only shared between me and two other people... Of course we took care of them, but it repeated again with information spilling, more killings and etcetera.” Kazahana paused to look at the door, then back at him.“This is one of the securest places I could think of, I thought it might be too risky to call you because of bugging and such, so I hope you can understand my indiscretion.”

Fuyuhiko nodded, looking over the photos again, the way the bodies were arranged with the pink paint seemed familiar to him, as if he’s seen it before. It felt like the answer was perched in the back of his head, waiting to come back to him, but it would not budge. Furthermore, there was something even more suspicious about this meeting to him, something like this would most likely fit under his father’s jurisdiction. Why did Kazahana arrange a fake meeting with him?

“So you’re going to fess up then?” he said bluntly, closing and dropping the folder to the ground. Kazahana gave him a questioning gaze.

“I don't know what you mean,” she said, still shooting Fuyuhiko questioning looks as she pulled back. Fuyuhiko stood up, moving to pull out his handgun before Peko bursted into the room. She had knocked down the door using one of the bodyguards who appeared to be nothing but dead and lifeless. Wielding her sword she moved to go to his side, but got yanked back by a brutish man, holding her up behind her arms.

“If you scream we’ll kill you and your tool,” Kazahana said with malice in her voice. Fuyuhiko’s eyes swept back to the woman, who gestured to his seat, “sit down Fuyuhiko.” Gritting his teeth he sat down, he felt uneasy with Peko being subdued, but he knew she would get out of that hold soon enough. Folding his hands over his lap, he glared at Kazahana.

“So this is it huh? You’re betraying the clan then?” he snarled at her, Kazahana barely blinked. Instead she took out a cigarette and lit it, puffing a few smoke clouds in the room with a delightful sigh. “If it was that easy I’d kill you right now, that being said what method do you like best? Gunshot to the head or stabbing? We could do whichever you prefer, I assume you have a few choice ways you’d want to go.”

“You’re bluffing, are you working for that new group? What the fuck Kazahana,” he practically spat. Kazahana just shrugged at him, “we’ve always been around, you just don't know it Fuyuhiko.”

There was a sudden sound of quick struggle and before he could even see it happen, Peko slammed the brute into the wall, cutting off the lights in the process in the room. He could see her figure through the light outside as she grabbed him. They were running now, out in the hallway, they couldn’t get out the way they came obviously. Finding a window, Peko broke it open effortlessly with her sword’s handle. Looking down there was a huge semi truck, Peko looked at Fuyuhiko, letting him go first. Moving out the window he dropped down to the top of the semi with a thud, the landing hurt a bit, but he was still breathing. Peko followed behind him, landing perfectly next to him, instead of hitting the metal like he did. She slid down the side, landing onto the ground and gesturing him to jump as her arms stretched out. As Fuyuhiko heard yelling and a bullet buzz by him he didn’t disagree as Peko caught him, setting him back on his feet, before they were running again. When they turned a corner to where he parked the car, a group of them were there, waiting. Kazahana was there, with a smirk on her face.

“It’s over Kuzuryuu!” she shouted, “just give up already!” Fuyuhiko exchanged looks with Peko, he knew what she was going to do and he didn’t like it. Her sword gleamed so harshly in the sunlight, there was no blood to sully the blade, yet. He wanted to tell her to stop, but he knew she would not obey that order. She attacked them, deflecting bullets and cutting off hands that held guns. Peko was too good at that. Fuyuhiko felt helpless, worried and helpless as she fought for him. She always did things for him, so he promised he would do something for her to makeup for this. With her blade she had made a path for them. Before their backup could come in, they ran. Fuyuhiko was tired of running, but he knew Peko was probably even more fatigued. He slid into the front seat of the car easily, putting the keys in and starting it. He rolled down the window and screamed for Peko to get in. Before she could even touch the handle she was grabbed.

“Shit, PEKO!” Fuyuhiko had no time to get out as gunshots were being fired at him. He ducked down, looking for Peko, she was being dragged back towards the warehouse and Kazahana was grinning at him viciously. He knew what this meant. He hated this. He couldn’t do anything without any backup, as much as he hated to admit it. Fuyuhiko’s grip on the steering wheel was hard as he speeded back to his house. His thoughts were enveloped with nothing but Peko as he drove. He did not want to cry, but he ended up doing so, better now than later. He was a failure as a yakuza, failure as a heir, failure of everything, including her. When he got home he demanded there be something done about Kazahana’s rebellion and that they look for Peko. Only one thing came out of this, the promise of snuffing out that rebellion, anything else was affordable to not save. It was not good enough, not good enough for him, but he was not the boss, his father was. His father tried to tell him that she was supposed to be dispatchable anyways and to stop his whining. He punched and kicked multiple holes in the shoji doors and told him to fuck off. Fuyuhiko was beyond pissed. He promised. He promised he would do something, anything for her and he would be damned if he didn’t do that or die trying.

 

* * *

 

She had no sword, nothing. It was dark and stingy where they kept her, the walls, the floor and the ceiling of this room were all metal. Peko was suspicious that it was one of those giant metal packing crates used for overseas shipping. She would not doubt it, a few times she tried to throw herself against the walls to try and burst it open, but her efforts were futile. It was useless, she was in the dark with no way of telling where she was. The only thing she was happy about was that she was able to get Fuyuhiko out of that situation before something bad could happen to him. She was nothing but a disposable tool after all, his life was more important than her own. Peko vowed to herself that she would protect him at any costs. This did not stop _them_ from trying to get her to speak. It felt like hours before she heard movement and the crate was opened. They had her tied down and a bright LED light harshly shining down on her face. The man that sat in front of her asked her questions about her, they were simple ones, but she still refused to answer.

When she would not answer those questions she’d get pitched or flicked on the forehead lightly. Then he moved onto the questions she knew he would ask, questions about the clan, about Fuyuhiko and much more. Not answering those questions were a bit more violent. A man smoking would press the hot end of his cigarette into her arm. She barely flinched, this was nothing to her. Peko was already used to this, and this was nothing compared to her first interrogation when she was ten. She remembered it quite well, how a crude woman had made incisions on the knuckle joints of her hands, not deep enough to the bone, but whenever she hit Peko her hands would automatically clench from her arms being restrained from the wrists up. The clenching hurt more and caused her to bleed more. Then there was another time where a man told her he would let her go if she managed to grab a key at the bottom of a jar fill of barbed wire, salt and lemon juice or she could answer all of his questions. She still had faint scars from that on her right hand, he still did not let her go even when she did get the key.

When the cigarette burns did not work they went on to beating her. The pain was obvious, but Peko never felt anything truly. Pain was something the brain issues as something bad is happening and that there is death in what is happening. Death never seemed full of pain to Peko, it felt like a reward, a reward for completing her duty as a tool. That being said, if she could escape she would go back to her young master’s side to continue her duty. Nothing could break her from that, nothing. Not physical or psychological torture could make her break from what was important. As long as he was safe and sound, she would never falter and there was no way Fuyuhiko could be dead right now, if he was she would avenge him and gladly take her own life. There was no question to it, not rhyme or reason, it was how she worked. Beaten and bloodied, they finally left her, still tied up with the light shining harshly on her. Eventually Peko ended up sleeping in that position, wishing her dreams would be pleasant.

No matter how much she wished, Peko only got bitter dreams about failing the Kuzuryuu clan and Fuyuhiko dead with a gunshot to the head. His lifeless dead body staring at her. It was too much so she ended up waking up. While she was sleeping they must of taken the light because everything was dark. Peko wanted to hear his voice again, her young master. His kind voice that fretted whenever she did something for him, whether it was getting him a glass of water to simply holding the door open for him. He always made a big deal about it, showing her concern. Yes, he was the only one that was concerned about her, maybe that’s why her heart was so soft to him. But Peko knew deep down, she knew it as she probably shouldn’t, that she loved him the most in this world. Just thinking about it made her ache deeply, missing everything about him. A fond memory came into her head, this one she kept precious, just like most of them.

It was winter and the kotatsu was set up in the house, Fuyuhiko was doing homework furiously, he was never good at mathematics, but was always splendid with literature whether he would admit it or not. Peko was in the kitchen, listening to Natsumi helping her older brother with his homework. Despite him snapping at her constantly she seemed glad to point out how to work out the problems like a good little sister. Natsumi was always an odd child, she was usually so kind and sweet to Fuyuhiko, but outside of that she was a tough and crude person. Peko liked her young mistress, Natsumi never seemed to show neither malice or kindness, like she did to Fuyuhiko, but instead treated Peko like an older sister of sorts. Natsumi was odd, as soon as she was done helping her brother she left the room and peko came in with the pot of tea she had made, setting the cup down to pour for Fuyuhiko.

“Why is there one cup? Do you not want any?” he asked her with a raised eyebrow, brushing the eraser crumbs off of the paper. Peko blinked at him, “no that's…”

“If you say it’s just for me then dont be rediculous, have some if you want or not, I don't care,” he grouched, stopping Peko from pouring him a cup, insisting he can do it himself. Peko held back a chuckle, moving back to the kitchen to retrieve one of the cups she uses. Fuyuhiko was blowing on his cup as he took a sip, Peko poured herself some as well, still standing.

“You know,” he sighed, “you can sit down, no one is going to bite your head off if you do.” Peko hesitated, she seemed to show some sort of forced restraint from doing so. Inside her mind she was thinking about doing things like this was being friendly, showing this kind of thing was never acceptable for her as a tool. That being said she ended up sitting at the kotatsu anyways, assuming that Fuyuhiko would be upset at her if she did not. The house was quiet, except for Natsumi talking on the phone and a few of the close clan members and family shuffling about in their own rooms or in one of the lounging areas. It was just her and him, under the kotatsu, drinking tea. Looking out across the hallway was the glass door leading outside, the snow was piling up out there. It looked soft and peaceful to Peko, a lovely scene that made her feel serene and warm. There was a fight going on at the other end of the house, two relatives fighting again threatening to kill each other. It would've ruined the moment if her and FUyuhiko were too used to it.

“Do you not have any homework?” Fuyuhiko asked, snapping Peko’s eyes away from outside to him again. She shook her head, “no, I already did it during lunch,” she replied. “Really? You did it that quickly? How are you that smart?” Fuyuhiko questioned, taking a drink.

“Well, I was offered to go to several other schools because of my test scores from our high school exams,” she said looking back outside. FUyuhiko choked on his tea, “S-seven? What schools were they?”

Peko thought for a moment, “Adatchi, Moroue and Nikkoju,” she said, listing off a few she remembered. Fuyuhiko’s face cracked into one of pure surprise mixed with horror,” T-those are top schools, why the fuck are you going to my school!?” he half yelled at her with that surprised look still on his face. “How could I keep watch of you if I’m not in the same school young master?”

“Thats… Thats fuckin’ dumb, what do i keep telling you, our relationship is non existent when it comes to school, you should of gone to one of those schools, you’re too smart to be here anyways.” Peko knew that his words meant nothing to say them, after all the final say in what she does comes from master Kuzuryuu, his father. She could see that he knew this too and he seemed to be a bit upset about hearing this.

“Well at least I can show you what you keep doing wrong with your formulas,” Peko pointed out, grabbing one of the pens on the table and pointed at the paper Fuyuhiko was working on. “You keep going into multiplications before solving the problems in the brackets, here,” she took the pen and wrote out a few reminders on his paper, “just write these on the top when you do a problem to remember the orders, you do excellently with everything else, so if you remember these you should be just fine young master.”

Fuyuhiko seemed to have a slight blush on his cheeks, “o-oh...thank you Peko,” he whispered, his pencil going back to solving the rest of the problems. Peko went back to looking outside, snow started to fall again, making it feel like christmas all over again. She ended up looking outside in a trance too long before she noticed that Fuyuhiko had fell asleep on the table. Carefully, she looked at his paper, he had finished his work at least. Trying not to bother him, she moved Fuyuhiko onto the cushions and pulled the blanket up to his chin. She allowed herself to look at him longer than necessary, Fuyuhiko was so calm when he slept, it was as serene as watching the snow fall outside.

Peko wished it was winter, as days passed in that shipping crate she felt like her mind was decaying. All she could think about was Fuyuhiko, more memories of him, in simple conversations to watching him playing a gambling game with some of the yakuzas and laughing with joy when he won. They were parts of her life that she missed. How long has it been? It could be a year and Peko still would not know how long it has been. One day she woke up to being jostled around, no one was touching her and that's when she realized it was the crate. She tumbled around like a ragdoll, trying to find a grip she clawed at the metal walls, finding a grip in between the walls in the corner. The smell of the ocean assaulted her nose even more as seagulls and mechanical noises flooded her ears. Then there was a thud and she fell to the ground. What was this? This was something she had not anticipated. Minutes seemed to fly by before the sound of a boat horn went off and the sound of waves flooded in the rest of the noise. That was all she heard for the rest of her time in that damned crate. Only the ocean, nothing else, occasional footsteps and muffled voices, but that was it. Trying to calm down she tried to relive one of her memories in her head again, another nice one, a soft one that she held dearly.

Peko has never been to the beach before, it was a family event too where yakuza had gathered to a family marriage of one of the Kuzuryuu’s close cousins. It was a wedding at a chapel near the beach, so of course the Kuzuryuu family came and brought only their close yakuza members with them and Peko. Peko had braided Natsumi’s hair for her, they were only about fourteen at the time and Natsumi was begging to go swimming. So Natsumi was Peko’s responsibility and Fuyuhiko was told to go with his sister because Natsumi would cry if he didn’t. This was one of the few occasions that Peko was allowed to wear something appropriate for the time, meaning that Natsumi had helped her pick out a black bikini, insisting that she would be too hot for her to wear her usual black clothing. Peko did not really refuse, not that she would, she helped her young mistress put on a cute ruffled bikini that she enjoyed. Peko grabbed all of the things that they needed and followed Natsumi to Fuyuhiko’s room as her young mistress proceeded to bang on his door

“Hey big bro! Lets go!” she yelled slamming her fist against the door. THere was cursing and Fuyuhiko yelled back that he was coming. Fuyuhiko came out with a flushed look on his face, wearing a t shirt and a pair of swim trunks, holding a towel and a thing of sunscreen, refusing to let Peko take them.

“A shirt really? You know no one cares that you don't have ink, people think you’re probably a kid anyways so you’d be fine,” Natsumi commented on his appearance as they walked out of the building towards the beach.  
“S-shut the fuck up, I don't plan on swimming anyways so I don't see the point in looking like I will,” he snapped at his sister who humph’d back at him, crossing her arms.

“Jeez big bro, you’re such a dick to ladies, how the hell Peko puts up with you amazes me,” she scoffed snarkly. Fuyuhiko’s face was bright red, telling her to shut it as they came onto the sandy beach. Natsumi found a perfect spot and Peko set up the blankets down on, as well as the parasol. Once she was done she helped Natsumi put sunscreen on her back before she ran off to go splash around in the water. Peko had hidden her sword in one of the bags, keeping it concealed just incase. Grabbing the sunscreen, Peko applied it on herself, bending over to get her legs, a few people nearby were talking, but she could not make it out. After getting her arms and stomach, she awkwardly attempted to get her own back with a sigh at how much that did not work. That was when two teenage boys approached her.

“Hey miss, do you need help getting your back?” one in red boxers offered, his hands were shoved into his trunk pockets and had a slight grin on his face. Peko was about to accept when Fuyuhiko got up, “why don't you fuckers scram?”

The other boy in a pair of black trunks gave Fuyuhiko an irritated look, “what the fuck did you just say kid?”  
“Scram, beat it, fuck off, she doesn’t need you two dickheads being perverts and don't call me a kid or you’ll regret it,” he said furiously, face red again, but this time it was in anger.

“Hey dude, we were just being nice-”  
“I know what nice looks like and you fuckin’ pervs were talking nasty about her, now fuck off,” he barked, cutting off the guy in red trunks.

“Why you little-”

The moment the boy in black trunks dared to make a move to Fuyuhiko, Peko had grabbed and twisted his arm behind his back and tossed him to the ground, with her knee pressed against his spine.

“I know seven hundred and fifty eight ways how to torture someone and about a thousand and fifty more to kill and hide the body, do not dare touch him,” she whispered to the boy, “do I make myself clear?”  
“Y-yes m’am!”

Peko let go of the boy, who grabbed his friend and started running away from her. Civilians were easy to scare away, that was one of the first things Peko found easy to do as a tool, especially when it came to keeping malicious people from Fuyuhiko. With a heavy sigh she wiped the sand and sunscreen that stuck to her hands onto her beach towel. Fuyuhiko gave her a slightly concerned look.

“Hey, what did you tell that punk?” he asked, keeping an eyes on her as she rubbed sunscreen on her shoulder blades. “Just not to touch you,” she said, it was partly true, but Peko found the other parts unnecessary. Fuyuhiko sighed, “whatever.”

Fuyuhiko ended up snatching the sunscreen from Peko with a huff and helped her get the rest on her back. Peko tried to not be embarrassed by this, or enjoy it, it was meaningless, but she did not mind feeling his hands on her back. She hated to admit she hated it when he was done, pulling back to go lay on his blanket, pulling out a book to read. That was when Natsumi came back to pull Peko to the water. Natsumi tried to play with Peko, but Peko was very lost in doing so and she always kept one eye on Fuyuhiko. They came back to the beach blankets, Peko slicked her hair back from the water, being dunked multiple times by Natsumi in the water. Natsumi ended up staring at Peko for a long time, Peko tilted her head at this suspiciously.

“Is there a problem young mistress?” Peko asked as Natsumi looked away to pull out the container of watermelon her and Peko had cut before they came out.

“I’m jealous Peko,” she began, using her teasing tone as she took out a slice of watermellon, “if we were actually related I could have a body like yours.” Peko seemed confused by her words, but Fuyuhiko seemed to understand as he shot Natsumi a look like he was saying, _“what the fuck are you trying to pull?”_

Natsumi giggled, “well her body is pretty nice, it's all slender, pretty curvy and her skin is so supple, I’m suuuper jealous, don't you think she has a nice body bro?” As soon as Natsumi asked him that question, Fuyuhiko was trying to hide his face.

“What kind of fucking question is that?” he grumbled, “I don’t really care as long as its… Stop heckling me about this!” he snapped at Natsumi angrily. Natsumi giggled at him as she munched on a slice of watermelon happily.

The memory was one two years ago, and Peko still found it fond, spending time being by the young master and the young mistress’s side. Peko missed it dearly, it made her heart feel colder by thinking about how she is being taken away from that forever. Being shipped somewhere she has never been, they truly made her useless as a tool, unable to do anything in this metal crate. She would not break, not yet, her young master still needed her still, she could feel it. Closing her eyes, Peko ended up falling asleep, listening to the waves crash around her as she drifted to sleep.

When she awoke next it was because her stomach was inflicting pain on her. This was when she realized she has not eaten in probably a few days. It takes a long time for the human body to die from starvation, hopefully before that happens she will be free’d and can recover from this enough to go back to her young master’s side. He would probably scold her for not eating right, but she always knew his words were full of concern more than malice and that’s what she loved about him. Fuyuhiko always cared, no matter what, he had a heart, unlike most yakuza, unlike Master Kuzuryuu. The only thing Peko could do was relive memories to pass the time, so she thought of Master Kuzuryuu when he had gotten mad at her.

Peko could not remember when it happened, she had to at least be seven, running around the house chasing after Fuyuhiko who said she had cooties. She was insisting on her staying by him and he was childishly not allowing it. While chasing after him, Peko had accidentally knocked over a vase, this vase was one of the old ones from when the Kuzuryuu’s ran an old gambling houses a long time ago. Long enough ago that it got her in trouble with the Master. Master Kuzuryuu yelled at her and told her she was no child and that such actions were not needed in this house for a tool. He had slapped her and sent her off to sleep outside and forbid Fuyuhiko from seeing her. Master Kuzuryuu never told her how long she was to stay outside like that, so she spent half a week outside, meditating to try to ward off the hunger. When she was told to come back in the house it was to escort Fuyuhiko to school.

That was how things worked, she was to be reminded of her being a tool, disposable and useful. That was all. At school that day when her stomach rumbled loudly she was made fun of for how she could not eat properly. As a kid she tried her hardest to not let it get to her, but it carried on until junior high. Only then did it stop, it only stopped because she was going to a different junior high than her classmates from elementary school. Of course this was mainly Fuyuhiko’s doing, seeing as it was his choice to got to a completely different school that was not normal for their elementary school to transfer to. And because it was his choice, Peko followed right after. Being punished for her actions became less and less then, seeing as she was extra careful not to mess up, but this was inevitable in any cause. One day after school, Peko had cleaning duty and had to stay behind to clean the classroom by herself. Because of this Fuyuhiko walked home by himself and when Peko arrived she was in trouble.

_“You are his tool and tool’s do not let their young master’s walk alone, what if something bad had happened to him!? We gave you a shelter tool, don’t be so ungrateful!”_

Those were Master Kuzuryuu’s words. No matter how wrong his statement seemed to a normal civilian, it did not matter. Nothing in this house mattered if it was wrong or right, it was his decision to decide what goes and what does not. Who is useful and who is useless. He had slapped her, whisky was on his breath and this time, Fuyuhiko had been in the room. He was never in the room when Peko was being given punishment by his father. When he had seen what his father did he ran in and tried to stop it, trying to shield Peko from Master Kuzuryuu. But like most things, violence came from it. Master Kuzuryuu grabbed the whiskey bottle, Peko shoved Fuyuhiko down and there was the sound of her head getting hit with a bottle. Because Peko was used to this kind of treatment, one hit would never do, even if she was just a twelve year old girl, worse things have been done to her. Peko shoved Fuyuhiko to the door, telling him to leave, she felt dizzy, but was able to at least manage that before she was struck again, passing out this time.

After that day Fuyuhiko had acted differently towards Peko and would usually be quiet around her, asking her odd questions. Those questions were usually, “are you happy?” “how are you feeling?” “do you like how things are now?” “do you ever want to quit being a tool?” They were silly to her and were filled with concern from him, it confused her how her young master could care about her the way he did. She was nothing but a tool that could not feel as easily as most would consider normal. Peko could never be more than a tool, only a tool, just like she was raised to be.

She did not know how many days have passed, not how many hours or minutes, but when she woke up to the sound of the doors of her crate opening she was up and ready. Ready to fight, ready to kill, ready to do anything in her power to escape. To her shock though, when the door opened there were police and security officers surrounded by men in bright orange hardhats and vests. They all spoke English at her, Peko tried to remember how to speak English, different languages was something she was taught by people in the Kuzuryuu clan, just like Fuyuhiko and Natsumi. Her head was refusing to work, she was able to make out some of the words, but the excitement mixed with fatigue was too much and she ended up passing out in the crate again.


	2. Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Preview:  
> "Before he could even start trying to get his boner to go away he heard his phone go off again... so with that he rushed out of the bath to grab his phone. He flipped it on and accepted the call.
> 
> “Hello?”  
> “Young master is this you?”
> 
> Holy shit.
> 
> Its her.
> 
> Its her."

It has been a week since Peko was kidnapped. It took less than two days to hunt down those bastards and kill them. They held one man hostage for questioning, the most they got out from him was a snide joke about shipping Peko off. Fuyuhiko tried hard not to think about it, but he could not help it. He could not lose her, not her. He had two promises, to do something for her in return and to become the new boss and free her from her position. That was the ideal plan after all, but now, now they could not find her in that warehouse or anywhere. The damn group that had infiltrated their clan was called “The Ultimate Despair”, a childish name for a chaotic and rambunctious group of people out there messing with organizations and just about anyone and anything. No matter what it was though there was murder and pink paint involved.

The people of this group were sick freaks as Fuyuhiko soon found out, they laughed during torture and being murdered off by them. One even sang a kpop song while being brutally and repeatedly stabbed in the stomach by one of their other “tools”. Fuyuhiko’s father tried to reassign one of those tools to Fuyuhiko, who spat and straight up refused. Peko had to still be out there, he would not be at ease until he found her. He would do anything within his power to make that happen and more. With all this thinking he did about the whole ordeal he decided to make another promise to her, to himself, one he should've done a long time ago. When he see’s her again, he’ll do it, he will finally confess to her his feelings, even if she does not feel the same, he will do it, he had to. There was no more excuses, he needed to do this, not just for himself, but to let her know how he’s felt about her for most of their existence together.

Fuyuhiko spent the last few days tracing, tracing Peko for any signs to where she was, but that was seeming to be more and more impossible. It was like she did not exist at all, her things were still  in her room, slowly collecting dust the longer she was gone. It was aching and aggravating to see time pass like this so tauntingly the longer she was gone. One day when he came home he went into her room, he did not know why, maybe just to remember that she existed and he just sat there. He did not touch her things, nor look through them, instead he just stayed there to remember her presence. Peko’s room was very minimal and small, with only her futon set up and a desk next to it with a few cushions. It was tidy though, neat and clean like she was never there, but that’s how she usually does things, as if she was never there at all. The one thing she could never get rid of to him was her scent, which he knew sound kind of creepy, but it was true, it was always faint but there and that’s all he needed to remind himself that she was there. Fuyuhiko hated invading her privacy, he always wanted to give her rights other yakuza did not treat her with, but as the days passed by things began to grow more and more hopeless. Someone somewhere was taunting him, whether it was the group of “Ultimate Despairs” or the whole goddamn world itself. 

Peko’s phone was left on her desk, he couldn’t help but see it, it looked out of place on her desk with her textbooks and work that she had from school. He wished she had it on her, just one call, one call and he would be at ease a little, even if it was a threat to kill her as a hostage, Fuyuhiko just wanted a sign of her. Just one sign, was that too much to ask? Taking her phone off the desk, he slipped it into his pocket, just incase she was able to call, just incase anyone who knew anything called her. He hated the mere idea of taking something from her room like this, and as much as he wanted to put the phone back he didn’t. He didn’t and that shocked him a little. It reminded him of those times when he stole her ribbons as a kid, or when she was chasing him through the house because he said she had cooties. For her sake though, he stopped doing things like that in middle school when he finally realized how his father treated her.

“Boss Kuzuryuu”, or as he called him, dad, always had the final say in what Peko did when he was around. If Fuyuhiko told her it was fine to sit with him, his dad would tell her not to and to keep standing behind him and she would do it. It was always like this, hence why Fuyuhiko tried to avoid being around his father with Peko, but it was not just that. It was how his father always drank until he was sick, yell, punch, hit, kick, kill, get hungover and did it all over again. Fuyuhiko never thought much about it, it was his family life after all, his father drank sake, whiskey and all sorts of liquor, so he never thought about it much.  He only thought about it when he saw how he looked at Peko, as if she was like an animal for him to slaughter and do whatever he wanted with. It was not until middle school that he saw it, that one day when Peko could not walk with Fuyuhiko home because of cleaning duty, he saw it, he saw him hit her. Something deep inside him grew cold that day seeing that, seeing her trying to help him like that with his father hitting her with a bottle. Whether he like it or not, he knew he had to make sure she was with him, make sure that they took the safe way home, make sure to do all these things to keep Peko from getting hurt like that. As a twelve year old punk, Fuyuhiko had to grow up, be mature and think things through, text Peko where he was so she would not worry and do something rash, lock the doors to the living room when his parents were at eachothers throats, or even if it was just his dad drinking again.

It still happened, just like everything else, the little mistakes and slip ups that only his father would call mistakes, no matter how unnecessary they were. New rules, new punishments, new bottles to swing with, new insults to carve with and new anger that was refreshed everyday, just to keep her  _ “in her place” _ . He could get used to the violence, the killing and everything else that came with being a yakuza, but he refused this, this was something he could not deem as ok. When it did happen Peko would always come to him, kneel and apologize, even if she was bleeding. Fuyuhiko would always get the doctor for the house to clean her up, even when she insisted he didn’t. He always told her, “if you get infected or worse then you can’t serve out your duty as a tool like you want, so shut up and let me help.” It was a dumb bluff, but it was the only way to get her to agree to being patched up. As junior high went on, the assaults grew less and less, especially with the trusted family doctor advising his father to try and cut back on drinking for his health. His father had cursed out the nurse took a shot of brandy and then grabbed his liquor cabinet, a gun and spent the night shooting the bottles and spilling their contents out in the backyard.

He still drank, but it lessened with the idea of death threatening to take him if he continued anymore with reckless drinking. Sometimes Fuyuhiko would try to think where did things go wrong? When did his dad start beating Peko, when did he and his mother start arguing so much that they almost killed each other, when did he start lying to his dad just to keep his sister and Peko safe? It was all fucked up and why he still held higher standards for himself, he did not want to be another typical yakuza brat that relied on everyone all the time. 

* * *

 

Peko never expected to be in a American police station in California, being questioned by a police officer why she was in a packing crate. They put a translator in the room after they assumed she did not speak English, but that was not it, she just could not find herself the will to speak to the police. Ever since she was little it was burned into her mind that talking to the police was something she should never do. Not even for help, she was strictly ordered this, but as time went on the officer got more irritated by her before he ended up switching out for a man in a brown suit who sat down in his seat.

“Hello miss,” he said, folding his hands on top of the desk in between them, to her this was their boundary, the table, nothing closer. If the man got closer to her she would start to feel threatened, all civilians must be kept at a good arms length from her. She was a tool after all, one meant to cut, not to be friendly or do much else with, besides that the only other uses she was for was for only Fuyuhiko. She would never let someone else use her outside of the Kuzuryuu family that she sworn to protect. The man tapped his stubby fingers against the table, he seemed to observe her with lazy brown eyes that flited back to the translator in the chair by the table.

“Can you try to tell her that she has no need to be concerned about anyone not understanding her here,” he asked the translator who nodded. Going off in three oriental languages, Peko knew them already, the translator relayed the message to her in Korean, Mandarin and Japanese. They probably assumed she was asian, which was not like it was incorrect, but she was considering how far racism goes in America compared to some other places she’s been to on missions where even if she was assumed to be asian there was only one main concern. That she was a tool that could kill easily. Peko stared at the table for a long moment, eyes wandering on the pattern of scratch marks until she got bored of that. Then her eyes looked at the walls in the room, noting how one of the walls were a different shade of white than the rest.

“Look kid,” the man in front of her spoke again, the translator already going off to tell Peko what he said in three other languages, “I don't want any trouble for you, the sooner you start talking the sooner we can let you go, we just want to know who you are and how you got in that crate. Ok?” Peko did not respond to his words, instead her eyes looked over him critically. The man had tired eyes, not just in how his face was structured, but everything else about him look tired and drab, as if his only goal for the day was to just get through another work week. He just wanted her to talk so he can finish his job, he did not care about her or what happens to her, that Peko decided upon first glance.  _ This man just wants to identify me and put me into some sort of child custody service, he does not care about me or my duty. _

Instead of responding, Peko stood up and went for the door, but trying to open it was futile, the door was locked. She looked back at the man who had simply shrugged at her, “the door won't open unless you start talking.” 

Gritting her teeth, Peko sat back down and looked to the corner of the room where an interesting stain caught her attention. She could wait forever then, they would have to let her go eventually, she was just a minor and a foreigner at that, there had to be some sort of rules that applied against her being held at the police station for too long. That was when the stomach pains hit her again, she was still starving. She bit her lip, trying not to show any pain, but the noises her stomach made defied her from showing much.

“You know,” the man started, “the sooner you leave the sooner you can  _ eat _ .” Peko hated the grin the man made, as if he won something. She stood up abruptly and with a fluid movement of her arms, she grabbed him by the collar of his suit, dragging half of his body up on the table. Knowing she shouldn’t, Peko hissed at the man, “my name is Ayame Araki.” The grin on the man's face faded away into a lazy smile.

“Nice to meet you Ayame, my name is James Dean, I’m from a special service agency that deals with child abductions and human trafficking.” After he said those words Peko let go of him, feeling relieved that she was able to give her fake alias to him, but also cautious now of the man and his job. He could easily find out her real identity or worse or that matter, as long as she used the story she was trying to formulate in her head she should be fine. A daughter from the Araki family in Kyoto, she was abducted when her and her parents took a three day trip to Tokyo to visit relatives and relax. She did not see anyone or anything, with this information they should be able to ship Peko back to Japan or work something out. That was the ideal outcome if she decided to cooperate, otherwise she would have to stowaway on another cargo ship. As long as she can return safely to her young master nothing else mattered. James took out a notepad and a pen, telling the translator she could leave. The translator nodded and got up, the door was opened for her and when it closed there was a faint click of the door locking. Peko had to face the fact that she had to give false information to this man in order to leave.

“How old are you Ayame?” James asked, clicking his pen twice as he fiddled with it in his hand.

“I am fifteen years old,” she lied, “I was born in August, so I turn sixteen  soon…” Peko tried hard to act like a phased out teenage girl, scared and helpless, just like most men want to see in young women. Peko was never interesting in discriminating against the opposite sex, but in most situations she had to be realistic on how people think. This man probably did things to get by and felt only sympathy for people that slightly resemble him, he was also probably the type that pitied women easily, especially with the job he does. Another factor she can go by on that was the cross he wore around his neck, religious men always do things they think is righteous and if not it was because they think it made them a better person, but a better person for what is the question. She needed to appeal enough to this man so he could possibly pity her enough to let her leave.

“Hmm...let's see…,” he trailed off for a moment before opening his mouth again, “where did you get those bruises from.” He pointed at her beat marks she had scattered all over her body, the main focal point of them were on her face and neck where they were most likely transitioning into a yellow purple color by now. Peko reached up to touch one she knew was there, acting a little shocked and looking tot eh ground, making a slight sniffling noise from her nose. The reactions were ones she could mimic, mimicking was something she was excellent at.

“I uh…” she trailed off, taking off her glasses to wipe at her eyes, they weren’t watering, but the act of messing with her eyes always signaled a sign of irritation in the eyes, that irritation was usually associated with crying or tearing up. Ater she was done with that she faked a nervous twitch by twisting a strand of her hair in between her fingers,” I can’t really recall… I can’t really recall much after these men grabbed me,” she said with the weakest voice she could make. 

“Where were you when they grabbed you?” James asked with interest. Peko forced a swallow as she drifted her eyes around, “Tokyo, my family and I w-were out visiting family, I-I went out with them to dinner, but...She sniffled again and rubbed at her eyes again, playing into the effect of a traumatized girl. Shaking her head she made her shoulders shake, “I-’m just so lost right now, a-and confused.”

She heard the man’s pen move on the notepad with quick swift movements as he made notes. “S-sorry, I’m all out of sorts right now…” she said, actually irritating her eyes with how she was rubbing at them. Peko grabbed her glasses and slid them back onto her face.

“It is alright Ayame, I have a few more questions to ask you and I can let you go, alright?” he said, looking at her witht the pity Peko was aiming for. Excelent, her plan was working, at this rate she could go back to her young master’s side and try to resolve the rebellion going on. Peko was playing the role of Ayame Ando perfectly to a t and the man named James was eating it up. When he was done, he stood up, and offered his hand to Peko, she assumed he wanted to shake her hand, so she accepted it.

“Thank you miss Ayame, we’ll run your information through the database and try to get in contact with your family,” James said, dropping the one thing Peko did not want to happen. If they ran that information of Ayame Andro through a database then they will know she was lying.

“It will take a few days of course,” he continued, this caused Peko to gain a little bit of interest, three days she could work with. “The police can’t exactly let you stay here, so instead I think you might want to stay at a teen shelter for a while, but you have to stay there so we can contact you again to let you know what we can do for you, alright sweetie?”

Peko nodded, this was all unecessary, she could just be sent back, no questions asked, no issues or any more trouble than needed. Instead she has to think of a new plan ow, what a mess. The man lead her out of the door and Peko was taken out to be officially given temporary custody to James Dean, which she and he both signed off for with the legal witness being one of the officers. Once outside, he lead her to his car parked out in vip parking where a tag on his window gave him authorization for parking and everything necessary to park there. Peko buckled herslef into shotgun, watching James Dean start the car and pull out onto the road. The way this man drove was cautious and calculated, keeping his eyes on all of his mirrors like he had three extra pair of eyes. 

“So, the youth center I’m having you stay at is a bit nicer than other ones, this one is more organized and well secured, so don’t worry about anything alright?” he said, glancing over at Peko. Peko noded in response, saying a small “ok” in a verbal way. She mainly watched how he drove, how the patterns in his driving reflected him, organized and cautious, just like her first analyzation. He obviously knew the roads well too, she could tell that by how confidently her manuvered onto different streets without checking the signs. When the car parked in front of a strip mall she gave him a questioning look. 

“I’m going to get you something to eat before I drop you off alright? And get you a fresh pair of clothes, is that ok with you?” he talked to her like she was a scared animal lost int he wild. The part she played made sense for it, no matter how much Peko wanted to refuse going in to do all of this her stomach ached again, reminding her of the days she spent wihtout food. She wished she could control ever part of her body, but sadly she could not. Peko was going to refuse the clothes, but James Dean did not take a no for an answer. Looking down at her outfit, Peko realized why he would want to get her new clothes. Her white button down was dirtied and had smears of her blood on them and her slacks were scuffed and dirtied badly. She decided for the sake of trying to blend in, she would allow it, for now.

The first thing they did was buy food at one of the resturaunts to go, Peko did not want to eat in front of a bunch of people and deffinately not in front fo this man, the pure thought of it made her get a brief flash of anxiety. She used an excuse telling him that she would rather eat later when they were done shopping. He bought it enough to leave her alone about it, heading to one fo the clothing departments to browse through. Peko never was what she would consider a fashionable type, but she did know what she liked. Dark colors always suited her, especially black, greys and dark teal, if she ever got the chance to though she would wear one of her dark teal blouse’s and a long black pencil shirt that she felt the most comfotable in and enjoyed seeing on herself. Getting a blous and a skirt would make it difficult for her to move in though, so she never wore them that often and if she did she would get odd comments and a few n from Fuyuhiko. _ “You look good today Peko…” _

She missed his voice, and everything else about him, her mind wanted to go back to the memories she kept dear, but she shook the want off. Getting distracted could break her cover as Ayame and she only had three days to be her before they find out she was lying and that there was no Ayame Ando and if there was she looked nothing like her. Then again no one looked like Peko, she would admit that easily, Peko looked like how a tool should, dangerous and easy to tell apart from humans. Peko finally picked out something decent, a dark teal button down, black tanktop, a black pleated skirt and a pair of leggings, tights were not negotiable  for flexibility at the moment and her thighs still had tight burns from a week ago when she trained too hard in them. The fabric was too harsh on her inner thighs for now, so leggings would have to do. Trying on the clothes she picked James gave her a thumbs up and they left the mall after their last purchase. 

On the way to the youth center Peko automatically tried to find bearings or some sort of path there, memorizing the sign names and the buildings that fit. If she only had three days she would need a way to map this place out, whenever she was, she still did not manage to get the name of this place, only that it was in California. When they arrived Peko analyzed the building, it was moderately size and white, like it was a small hospital once. There was a sign at the very front that read,  _ “North Irving CA Youth Center, Room, Counseling and Services.” _ It was a bit intimidating to look at at first, but soon Peko got over the building, it was just a building after all. Walking inside the building, Peko was almost one hundred percent sure that the facility was once a hospital. The inside structure was very similar to one. At the “Help center” desk was where a woman talked to James as he explained the situation with Ayame. It took less than half an hour to get Peko’s fake information on this odd routing system they had here before she was being lead to “her room”. The lady that had helped her set up, took her to her room, explaining the rules and curfews of the youth center and that violating any of those rules could cause her to get kicked out. Peko nodded, understanding fully, her face bloomed into that of confusion though when the lady handed her a rolled package of quarters. 

“Here, we have at least twelve phone booths in and outside of the facility, we keep a lot around so the kids can keep in touch with family or friends, if you think disclosing where you are may be dangerous then please say that you are a friend or relative's place, we want to make sure you’re safe, take care,” the lady left as quickly as she came and Peko was now alone in her room with a roll of quarters and three days to spare. James Dean had already parted ways with her so now it was time to plan. Peko’s stomach wretched before she could do anything, wincing she looked around the room, finding it to be one of those small one patient hospital rooms. Looking at the bag of food that man had bought her she decided to eat it, there was no use of planning if she was going to die of starvation. In these times when Peko had to do nothing but eat, she would try to at least distract herself while she did it. One of the easiest ways was to read a book and looking around the only ones here were in English. Speaking English was easy, reading it was kind of a harder thing to do. Plucking one from the shelf she decided now was a better time than any to start getting used to reading in English. As she read holding up the book with one hand, her other sneakily moved to feed herself. If she did not do this then starvation would give in and there was no way a tool of the Kuzuryuu clan could die of starvation. It would be disgraceful.

This was also why Peko studied a lot, it was all because of that disgraceful time as a kid in that class that poked at her for having bad eating habits. She knew it was silly, every bit of it was, but she could not help it. The way they would call her the “anorexic girl” who was a walking skeleton with no warm complexion because she did not eat. There was even a time when a few boys in her elementary school would try to pinch at her sides and said they could only feel her skeleton. As a kid with no comforting resource, Peko took a quick comfort in her title.  _ “I am a tool, tools do not feel, nor need the likes of human companionship or acceptance to feel accepted, tools are tools and tools do not feel.” _

That is what she told herself as a kid whenever it started to bother her, finding comfort in her duty and working hard at it. She would skip lunch to study and follow Fuyuhiko, keeping a watchful eye on him and another on a book. He of course called her a nerd and told her to go away, but Peko could call his bluff, he liked her company, that she could tell, which was when Peko thought Fuyuhiko was a weird person. How could someone enjoy the company of a tool like herself? One that cannot feel, without a will except for the one that is given to her. That is why she will do anything in her power to be by her young master’s side again, no matter how many times she needs to say it to herself, she will do it. When she had finished eating and had gotten through to the fifth chapter of the book in her hands she bookmarked it and looked at the quarters. She could call anyone she felt like with this amount of change, but who to call… As much as she despised doing it, she knew that her young master would at least want a report of her whereabouts, he had to at least know that much. 

Holding the quarters she exited her room and went looking for one of the payphones before coming across one on her floor at the end of the hallway. If she had her cellphone things would be much more easier, but like most things, she kept her cellular device at home the day she was taken, she never took it anywhere outside of the house. It made sense to her at least, the one person she always had to be in contact with was the one she was always around, so situations like this made her uneasy. What time is it there anyways? Should she even call right now? The clock on the wall said nine fifty five and Japan had to at least be a twelve hour difference. Thinking about for a good minute or two, Peko decided it was an acceptable time to call, it should be at least midday by now. As she put in the quarters, Peko thought about what Fuyuhiko was doing right now, was he alright? Was he safe? She had to know. Her fingers moved over the numbers, having memorized Fuyuhiko’s cell phone number a long time ago for events like this. For some reason she felt a bit anxious, with the phone pressed to her ear as she looked around. It was quite, either not many kids came to this youth center or they were in early for curfew which was not until ten thirty. The soft sound of ringing thrummed against her ear as Peko waited and waited. Maybe he was busy or out doing things. Peko was about to hang up or leave a message at least, but then the receiving end picked up.   
  


* * *

 

Fuyuhiko spent the day around the house, trying to distract himself with reading as Peko’s phone burned in his pocket. It burned because he knew he had it, like it was one of those subconscious things you are more aware of than anything else on you. Natsumi was trying to cheer him up by declaring to have afternoon tea together, he could care less, but it couldn’t hurt. When he told his little sister that, she grinned and ran off to get tea made and set up in the livingroom. For a crazy and tough person, his sister sure liked being sweet to him, it was almost unsettling, but he didn’t hate it. As long as she kept out of trouble inside the house and outside of the house she was fine. The little shit always tries to start something with him and Peko though, no matter what it is, she manages to do something sneaky to fluster him or Peko. She knew how he felt about Peko, ever since they were five and Fuyuhiko made the mistake five year olds should not make in front of their sisters. He told her his  _ crush _ . Most of the time Natsumi will tease him about that fact, but he knew that she knew he was still in too deep with his feelings for Peko.

Back a year ago when they were starting out in high school he was sure that Peko found out that he had these feelings for her. It was all because of his sister fucking around with them again. It was a few months into the semester at least when she hovered outside the door to his room while Peko was doing a few tasks for his father. Natsumi stared at him for five minutes before he got irritated.

“What do you fuckin’ want?” he said with a grouchy tone, looking up from his book and automatically placing a bookmark in between the pages he was reading. The book was apart of a small reading assignment his teachers had assigned him, of course Peko had already read the entire book like the fast reader she was. Fuyuhiko always wondered how Peko could function like she did, but never really questioned it out of trying not to be too nosy in her business. Natsumi grinned and walked into his room, plopping down on the bed and crossing her legs.

“Can’t I just want to see my big bro?” she spoke in that way that he knew she was plotting something. Setting the book down on his desk he turned around to look at her with a questioning gaze.

“Cut the shit, I got some assignments due tomorrow, so I really don't have time for this  _ playing around _ bullshit Natsumi,” Fuyuhiko sighed, rubbing his temple with his fingers. He already was starting to get a headache twelve minutes before Natsumi came in and he would really like to at least finish his homework right now. Pouting at him, Natsumi shook her head, letting out a big sigh.

“You know, _she_ knows,” Natsumi said, uncrossing her legs and recrossing them the other way.   
“What the fuck does that mean?”  
“Use your head big bro. She. _Knows_ ,” no matter how Natsumi emphasised her words, Fuyuhiko’s head was still thinking about the last few paragraphs about a soldier in war describing how he left his home life in the country. What kind of books did his fucking teacher even consider classic literature was boring garbage to him, but it was high school and if he planned on at least graduating he wanted to have a decent grade.

“Peko, you dumbass,” she huffed, crossing her arms, “I’m going to assume what I mean by,  _ “Knows” _ .” Before Fuyuhiko could question her, Natsumi got up and left quickly like a storm passing, sudden and leaving a fucking mess. Now his head couldn’t even think about the dumb soldier in the book because he was actually plotting his little sister’s murder. Why would she leave that fucking bomb of a explanation on him, Peko “knows” could mean a long list of things. Peko  _ knows  _ Fuyuhiko liked sweets, she  _ knows _ what they had for breakfast that morning, what the fuck did Natsumi mean by that. And then it hit him.

Did Peko  _ know _ how he felt about her.

Shit.

Getting up from his desk he barged after his sister, yelling at her, “NATSUMI YOU DIDN’T!” He was pissed, if she actually said anything to Peko, he would….He would. Well he wasn’t sure, he couldn’t kill her, but he would get back at her for doing something as equally horrible. Natsumi was giggling somewhere in the house, a few yakuza yelled at him to shut his trap. “YOU ARE SERIOUSLY NOT GETTING OFF THE HOOK FOR THIS!”

“Young master, what is wrong?” Fuyuhiko stopped mid way through the hallway, in the room to his right was the entrance, Peko had just came in and was slipping off her shoes. The ringing pain from his headache caught up with his burst of anger when he stopped, he rubbed his head, deeply sighing. 

“That bitch is seriously going to pay...Don't listen to whatever Natsumi told you ok?” he said seriously, looking at Peko. Fuyuhiko wants to be the one to tell her, not his meddlesome sister, even if he logically knew nothing could workout or anything, he would tell her himself. Peko seemed to have a look of confusion before speaking.

“What do you mean? The young mistress did not tell me anything,” she said, there was a slight twitch of her lips the looked like they wanted to frown. “Unless...Oh I know what you mean, but why would I…”

“Peko,” he said, stepping towards her, “I want to tell you myself, not her, so don’t listen to her, ok?” Confusion was still over her face as she uttered a confused, “young master?” at him, but ended up nodding, “I guess I can understand.”

“Yeah look, don’t even worry about it, I understand if you don’t feel the same or whatever-”  
“Wait, young master I’m lost, Natsumi just told me we were going to Kyoto for a business trip.”

Peko’s words left a heavy silence in the air. Fuyuhiko stopped altogether, looking at her incredulously. Things started to form and make sense in the big grand scheme of things and Fuyuhiko was mad again, seething as he took a moment to go back out to the hallway and yell a string of curses at Natsumi, who of which was eavesdropping nearby. Before he could go catch her, Peko stopped him.

“Hold on a moment young master,” she said quickly, “what did you mean by if I didn’t feel the same?” Oh god no. This was not happening today. Fuyuhiko’s face flushed a bright red before he coughed awkwardly into his elbow. 

“J-just forget about it, I-I’ll tell you later!”

That was not even the worst of scenarios his sister had set up, there was that time at the beach where she tried to get him to say something perverted about Peko. She will always terrorize him and Peko because of his stupid five year old mouth. Then again what were little sisters good for if they couldn’t make your life living hell? He still loved her in that regard, despite usually being bitter about how she would make a better yakuza heir than him, that was the main insult of the house. That Fuyuhiko would be such a bad yakuza boss that his  _ little sister  _ would be better fit. Most of the time those comments were way too sexist for Fuyuhiko’s liking and thought it was unfair to his sister, who had her own agenda and life to be used as a punchline in the house for Fuyuhiko to be insulted with. So he never paid those comments and insults any attention, unless they were extremely out of line, then he would threaten them with never being seen by their family again. That usually got a few good reactions, and not because Peko was usually behind him when he did this, ready to pull her shinai out. They never dared to make jokes about Peko in front of him, not that she would do something, but because Fuyuhiko would most likely _ let _ her do something.

Finishing the book he was reading, Fuyuhiko tossed it onto the table, he couldn’t think about the ending, his thoughts were still consumed with where Peko was. He was not given that long of a moment to think before Natsumi came in with tea and bitched at him to move his stuff off the table. Huffing irritably, he scooped up his homework and books and set them on the ground, giving Natsumi a place to set down the tray. She took her sweet time pouring the tea carefully, she had a usual tendency to spill, but she was trying really hard right now Natsumi only spilled a little this time, but it did not end up scalding anyone so she did a good job. Trying to be quick and sneaky about it, Fuyuhiko added sugar to his cup before taking a drink.

“You know big bro, no one fuckin’ cares how much you like sweet things,” Natsumi teased him, causing him to choke a little on his tea, glaring at her.

“Shut the fuck up,” he retorted, trying to hide how warm his face felt after she teased him. He knew it was silly, trying to cover that he had a major preference to sweets than most other things, but he was still childish looking, so at least he could do was act mature. Mature to him meant about three things, not acting like a kid, enjoying sweets and anything associated with youth, being full grown/taller and not needing to depend on others. He could do at least two of things for now, he has yet to go through his own growth spurt. The one other thing he can’t help at the moment was with Peko always willing to do everything for him, but right now she was not here and he wished she was. She would try to probably reassure him in a tamer way than Natsumi did and then his little sister would go for the kill and try to convince Fuyuhiko that he should date Peko because she was the only girl that he could stand to be around. Or something like that.

“So why were you in Peko’s room earlier?” Natsumi questioned him This caused Fuyuhiko to freeze up a little before muttering, “I don't know what you mean,” and trying to hide his face in his cup.

“I saw you go in there dumbass, can’t you tell your little sis why you were going in there, or did you do something disgraceful?” Wow. he was really going to probably kill her this time. 

“Get your head out of the gutter alright?....I...ust..iss..r” he mumbled the last part of his sentence quietly, trying to avoid the look Natsumi was giving him.

“I’m sorry, I don't speak pussy,” Natsumi gave him a pointed look with a slight grin starting to form on her face.

“Oh my fuckin’-I just miss her ok? Are you happy now?” he stressed at her, putting his cup down as calmly as he could, trying to act like he was not flustered.

“Aww, man I wish you missed me, I’m so jealous, Peko even gets your attention when she’s not here,” his sister pouted, taking a drink. 

“Shut up, you know she just got fucking snatched less than, what, a week ago? Don’t be an asshole.”

“Yeah yeah I know, I’m just messing with you, you’ve been moping around for so long I thought you were a zombie.”

Fuyuhiko must admit to himself that he was acting miserable all week, but he still had good reason to! Peko was gone and he couldn’t help but blame himself and everyone else, he kept to himself in his room mainly, coming out to do some business or to receive reports about the warehouse he had last seen her in. His father was trying to restrict him from doing much about Peko’s disappearance, according to him if she can’t manage to come back in a week then she was not the best tool for him anyways. He broke a lot of the shoji doors that week out of frustration. Besides that he wasn’t eating or doing much of anything that well and he hated just  _ waiting _ like this. Waiting for something, anything to happen, it made him feel useless.

“Yeah I know, I’ve been in a slump, but nothing is going to be done for Peko if I don't get over it and at least try to find her,” he admitted, cracking his knuckles out, looking outside for a brief moment. Peko always liked looking outside in here, he understood why, it was always calm looking outside, no matter what the season it was. Maybe that’s why she preferred to go out more often for just walks, maybe she loved nature as much as she loved animals. It would make the most sense for her. 

“It’s about fuckin’ time,” Natsumi chided at him with a soft smile on her face, “we’ll find her big bro, don't worry, she can't die that easily and she’d be damned if we would even let that happen, right?”

“Right, there’s no way in hell she can be dead,” he said, getting some positivity back from talking to Natsumi. His little sister always knew how to rile him up in the both the good and bad ways, at least she was deciding to be nice to him instead of being a dickhead about the situation.

“Hey your phone's going off,” she pointed at his phone that was under the stack of work he had placed down on the ground. Grumbling to himself he dug it out, not bothering to check caller ID as he answered the call.

“Hello?”  
“Fuyuhiko you are not allowed to send anymore of my men out searching for your tool.”  
On the other side of the line he heard his father’s voice growl at him. Great, he didn’t need this right now, another infuriating conversation with his father, it was just waiting to happen.

“Shut up, I’ll do what I want,” he spat, hanging up his phone immediately and stuffing his phone into his pocket. Standing up he gathered his work and books from the ground.

“I’m gonna go take a bath, thanks for tea,” he said to his sister stiffly as he paced to his room. It took him less than ten minutes to drop his stuff onto his desk and stride to the bathroom, immediately stripping down when he noticed he was the only one taking a bath right now. Usually sharing baths was common and done to not waste water in the house, but Fuyuhiko needed to calm his nerves. He scrubbed himself down on the stool, making sure he was clean before climbing into the tub. The hot water eased him into a more sedated state now. When he was a kid he remembered bathing with his sister in this same room with their mother trying to get them to behave. It was a childish memory he was still surprised to have, and it was one of his earliest he could remember. Peko was never allowed to bathe with the family, instead she had to bathe with low ranked yakuza or the other hitmen from the dojo she trained in at home. The bath was big enough for about four adults, five if you counted Fuyuhiko as an adult, it wasn’t like they couldn’t, but that was just it. She couldn’t because she was treated like an object, so most of the adults thought that she didn’t need to be treated humanely or with the same rights they had. It was sickening.

Giving himself a moment to clear his head, Fuyuhiko found himself staring at the circular shape of the shoji screened window in the room. He hadn’t turn on the lights so the only light source came through there by the midday sunlight. Fuyuhiko was trying to be at peace, but this proved only harder and harder for himself until he realized he had an unintentional boner staring at him. Fuck. He did not want to deal with this right now, it was also inappropriate to even try to do in the place where everyone mainly bathes in this house. It wasn’t like he was disgusted by the act of masturbation, it’s just that right now was really not the time. Then he remembered that list of beneficially ways masturbation helps with stress relief and considered it. No no no, you were in the bath dumbass, what if someone wanted to take one after you and sees your semen floating on the surface of the water? Think before you jack, you dip.

Before he could even start trying to get his boner to go away he heard his phone go off again. It was probably his father again, to yell at him for being rude or disrespectful, but honestly Fuyuhiko could not care less. For some reason though, he felt like it wasn’t his father, so with that he rushed out of the bath to grab his phone. He flipped it on and accepted the call.

“Hello?”  
“Young master is this you?”

Holy shit. 

Its her.

Its  _ her. _

Fuyuhiko never imagined the day he was happy to hear Peko call him young master, but here he was. He pinched himself a few times in disbelief as Peko kept asking if he was still on the line.

“Peko,” he said, his hands were shaking, why were they shaking so badly. Control your emotions dipshit, she’s alive. That didn’t happen. His fingers covered over the receiver as he wiped away tears viciously, trying to make them stop. 

“I don't know how much time I have,” she said as he sniffled and tried to clear his face of any of his tears, “so I might have to be quick about this.”  
“Where are you?” he asked, his voice cracked a bit, but he did not care enough to try and cover himself from that.

“California,” she replied for a beat before adding, “Irving.”

California? Wasn’t California all the way over in America? That’s the only place he could think of that was even remotely called California. How she got there so quickly amazed him a little, but then again the whole situation itself was fucked up.

“So you’re in America?” he asked slowly, his mind was still in shock at all of this.

“Yes, I was shipped overseas through a large metal packing crate, the police had me under investigative purposes, they thought I was either a stowaway or a girl caught up in human trafficking. I gave them false information, but right now I’m being held at a youth facility while they run their records under the false name and information I gave them,” she spoke quickly to try and catch him up and he was trying really hard to absorb all of the information she told him. “I got enough quarters for probably five or six calls, I apologize for not having my phone with me.”

“That’s alright, but you’re alright right? You’re safe right?” 

“Yes.”  
“Good, that’s all that matters.”

There was a brief moment of silence over the line, except for the slight sounds of breathing that were barely tangible.

“How long will it take them to run your fake info?”

“Three days, I’m already mapping a plan to ditch the facility before they’re done running my information. If I stay too long they’ll figure it out and try to get my actual information or try to do something worse,” her voice sounded rushed still, her Japanese was also a little rusty, like as if she was trying hard not to speak English. That seemed plausible, considering she probably had to adjust to that language instead.

“Keep me updated, you’re not allowed to die on me alright?” he said sternly, hearing her reply with a “Yes young master.”  
“And Peko, one more thing…” he paused, as she waited for his reply, “... I miss you.”

“...Young master...I have to go.”  
And with that the sound of the other line dying with a click and the dial tone going off, Fuyuhiko was left still naked in the bathroom holding his phone to his ear and sniffling.


End file.
